Let Me Tell You a Tale of An Elf Named Glorfindel
by Lk
Summary: The tale of Glorfindel, his horse named Asfaloth and their first encounter with Elrond the Half-Elven after his resurrection


There are some things that need to be addressed before you read this story. For one, this chapter is as serious as it gets. Which, by the way, is not saying much. For this entire chapter is one giant long pun. Also note that this is purely fiction and made up from our deranged minds. This is what could have happened…but didn't. This is going to be the first in a line of Glorfindel, yes Glorfindel humor stories. Legolas, Aragorn, and the twins will eventually show up. 

Normal disclaimer applies; we are not so original as to create our own characters. Also note that anything Asfaloth does is purely fictional, such as wrestling down elves, using elven pressure points. Now before you tell me grinning horses don't exist, you haven't seen our neighbor's horses. I kid you not, they smile.

So without further ado,

Let Me Tell You a Tale About 

**An elf Named Glorfindel**

            In the beginning the land was barren and unpopulated. Then came the elves. Alongside the elves came the horses.

            This is the tale of kinship between these species. Between certain individuals. Between an elf named Glorfindel and his horse named Asfaloth.

Chapter 1: The fall of Gondolin or How it Really Happened 

            It was burning. Everything in his sight was burning. Gondolin had fallen. With his sword, Bloodlust, in his right hand, his companion at his left. The elf-lord known as Glorfindel had sworn vengeance for his people. As he walked through the rubble, littered with bodies, he turned to his companion.

            He stood staring at his stoic companion. He couldn't help but smile, he had known his companion since he was a youth and here he was waiting to do battle with whatever fate awaited them.

            "Are you ready," Glorfindel asked his friend with concern. This would be their most difficult task yet.

            His companion nodded and snorted. Of course he was ready, he thought. Shaking his long silver hair, he couldn't help but grin. Silly Glorfindel, of course he was ready.

            The two trotted off to battle, not exactly knowing what their enemy was. The two might have taken notice to the burning buildings and thick smoke – if it were not for their vengeance-ridden minds. It wasn't until dusk when they saw IT. IT stared straight at them, murder in its eyes. IT had a whip hot enough to scorch the earth itself. IT had a pair of smoke infested wings. IT was a balrog.

            Glorfindel gripped his sword tighter. A balrog, he thought, only they would have enough power to topple Gondolin. No matter, his people would have vengeance – no matter what the cost.

            His silver haired companion shook his head. He, too, would avenge the people of Gondolin. He snorted, eyes narrowed, nostrils flaring. Oh yes, Gondolin will have its vengeance.

            Glorfindel charged the balrog, Bloodlust drawn. The balrog screeched with ferocity. The little elfling had the audacity to run at him with a pointy piece of metal. The whip cracked with lightning-like strokes. Still the elf charged.

            Glorfindel, praying for strength from the Valar continued on. "For Gondolin!" he cried. The Bloodlust halted the onslaught of lashings. The balrog whip was no more. Being made of hell-fire itself, the balrog was more than able to go hand to hand with the pitiful elfling.

            He stood his ground. Sweat pouring from his fatiguing body as he dodged the beast's fury. He knew that if he were to survive this, he would have to take it down fast. As he was plotting his course of action, a searing pain flared through his body. The flames were engulfing him.

            As Glorfindel began to fall, a light shone through the flames. A beacon of hope broke through the flames of darkness. Completely ignoring the flames, the silver haired one broke through the wall of flames, carrying Glorfindel away from the immense heat.

            Between his gasps for air, Glorfindel managed to whisper a small thanks to his friend who now stood between him and the balrog. His friend growled at the balrog, daring it to take Glorfindel away from him.

            The balrog stared at this silver haired being who stood between him and his prey. The sight of this impudent being made the balrog cackle with dark madness. It would deal with the golden haired elf later. Now it would deal with the silver haired one. He would stamp out this beacon of hope and then it would enjoy the torture of the elf lord.

            Glorfindel leaned down to pick up the Bloodlust. His body hurt, aching with every movement but his soul screamed out for justice. Drawing up the last ounce of strength, he gathered for his second and final assault.

            Sensing Glorfindel's movements, his silent companion stood poised, ready for the final assault. It was either they or the balrog.

            The Bloodlust shined, eager to sate its thirst. With his last rush of strength Glorfindel thrusted the elven blade into the flaming beast's belly. He paid no mind to the burning flesh – so intent was he to finish this deed.

            As the great balrog tumbled back, Glorfindel felt himself being pulled with it. He was certain he would meet his end at the bottom of the cliff next to the dying balrog.

            As Glorfindel fell, the silver haired one leapt into action. Stretching with all of his might, teeth bared, he caught Glorfindel by the shirt, preventing him from falling into the abyss. The balrog continued its descent into darkness.

            Glorfindel and his companion both breathed a sigh of relief. Their duty done. Until they heard a rather large cracking sound. They stared at one another, blue eyes boring into brown, with worried expressions.

            "Please tell me that was the balrog," Glorfindel asked with pleading eyes. A feeling of dread creeping into him.

            His companion, to reply, shook his head with even more worry. More cracking was heard. Glorfindel knew now that the earth around them was shattering. He threw a look to his companion and whispered, "Run!"

            His silver haired friend shook his head no, determined to stay by Glorfindel's side.

            Glorfindel tried to shoo his companion away to safety. So desperate was he to save his life, Glorfindel tried everything to make him leave – he even threw his shoe at the silver haired one.

            The silver haired one stood firm. He snorted and stomped his foot. He would not leave his master, his friend, and soul mate. He would share this fate.

            Glorfindel sighed as the earth finally gave way. He let a small smile creep upon his face as they both fell into the abyss.

"So be it, Asfaloth."

So ends the first chapter of Glorfindel. The next will be where he finds himself in a land of enchantment, of beautiful flowers and giggling elf maidens. The land of Imladris, home of Elrond the Half-Elven.

Also stay tuned for "Leaves of 3 leave them be!" Aragorn just doesn't get some survival techniques.


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